


Regret

by YouLi



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ball Gag, Gay Sex, Gore, Handcuffs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Betrayal, Protective Zsasz, Regret, Sexual Abuse, Zsaszlepot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-07 07:46:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18406247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouLi/pseuds/YouLi
Summary: After his betrayal Victor comes to deliver a present to the Penguin, not knowing Valeska already has his claws in him.





	1. Chapter 1

 

Victor has been hiding behind the bushes on Don Carmine Falcone's old grounds all day. Here he had been at home for years, working days and nights for Don Falcone.

The last days he had come here. But there hadn't yet been a right moment to reveal himself.

The Don was dead. Just like his daughter.

He wasn't here because of _them_ . He was here because of _him._ The Penguin.

 

He'd been hiding here for the last few weeks, together with Butch, or a Frankenstein version of him and the whole gang around this anarchist. Valeska.

It was a shame Penguin joined forces with these creatures, but it was probably his fault. His betrayal was the reason for Penguin's downfall.

Not long after Sofia's death he had learned the truth. None other than the Narrows queen had informed him.

Penguin was innocent. Not he had given the order to kill Falcone, but no other than his daughter.

The news had surprised him. All he wanted from then on was retribution.

But it was already too late. Mario's widow had sent her into a coma with a head shot.

But that wasn't enough.

Not for him. And not for Penguin.

 

He knew how much Penguin loved heads. Both of them shared this preference.

And at that moment he had _hers_ with him. In a black leather bag.

It was a gift. He would lie if he claimed not to have any ulterior motives. He hoped to be taken back by his ex-boss.

For many reasons.

On the one hand there was the fun promised to him by Penguin's orders. On the other hand were the long years of cooperation with him. He sort of got used to him. Damn, he even liked the angry bird. And missed working for him. He was loyal to him for years and the Boss have never given him any impulse to cheat on him.

Until a few months ago.

But he would clear that up. This whole mess. And then he would help the penguin back to power.

 

The last days there was no convenient opportunity for him, because Valeska's gang occupied the house and Penguin was never alone. That's why he intended to put her head in Penguin's bedroom. As a surprise.

As quietly as possible he pulled himself up the window. With a secondcareful jump he had arrived at Oswald's window. He had watched the last few days closely where the little bird was sleeping. With one skillful move (after all he had known this house for almost ten years) he opened the window from the outside and entered.

He looked around with a contented grin. Penguin had already spread out here. He recognized Fish's old feather boa and the familiar purple coat on his bed.

 

Just as he was about to open the leather bag, he paused. Noises came from the next room. Sounds which alarmed him. He knew his boss long enough and that sounded just like him. They were choked sounds, maybe even a whimper. Without hesitation he shouldered the bag again and pulled out both of his guns. Silently he stepped out of the room into the hallway and followed the noises on silent footsteps. In front of the door, from which he heard the sounds more clearly, he stopped and opened it without making a sound.

 

The sounds became louder. More desperate. A bad feeling crept into him, he knew Valeska from hearsay. He loved chaos, violence, was a sadist. And Penguin was defenseless. At least in his eyes.

What he saw only confirmed his suspicions. Penguin was apparently tied to the bed, on all fours, facing the door. He was gagged, what also explained the noises. But he hadn't expected so much skin to see.

And Jerome Valeska kneeling behind him. His head laid back, a deep grunt filled the room and Penguin screamed something, but it was muffled. He saw tears on his face, eyes filled with pain widened.

Directed _at him._

Victor reacted quickly. He aimed his gun at Valeska, who had just raised his head and was biting his disfigured lip full of lust. When Penguin noticed what Victor was up to, his body tried to detach itself from the other, he screamed in protest, in fear and then Valeska noticed him too. Victor pulled the trigger, but Valeska was quick, he fell to the ground, but the sound of pain told him he had hit him. Probably on his shoulder. A manical laughter tore the air, Penguin shook his shackles like crazy, and Victor stepped silently around the bed. When he looked at Valeska, he still laughed manically. Victor had his two guns pointed at him, and then the ugly clown held up a grenade.

"Don't do that, big boy. Or all three of us will go down.”

Penguin still screamed, this time angrier, more desperate, and Victor aimed the guns right at Valeska's head and heart.

Without looking back, he walked slowly backwards to the bed and held one gun pointed at Valeska, the other at Penguin's right handcuff. In the corner of his eye he always kept an eye on the laughing madman. The shot made Oswald flinch and after a total of four shots, Victor professionally threw a blanket over Penguin's naked body and took him onto his arms. It wasn't too easy, but he was still able to aim both weapons at the redhead, even though Oswald was in his arms. Who, by the way, was writhing and remained anything but calm.

Backwards Victor stepped through the door, highly concentrated. The boss screamed and made efforts to defend himself, but that must have been the shock. Before he completely disappeared from the room, Valeska laughed even crazier.

"See you around, Pengy. In the meantime, don't forget who your daddy is."

 

Muffled cries penetrated Victor's ear and at that moment he felt the unprofessional urge to shoot Valeska's head off his body. With his foot he kicked the door shut and hurried with penguin wrapped in a blanket on his arms from the estate. Tetch stood at the door, which he chased away with a few shots and then stormed out of the house.

As he walked fast across the lawn, he heard a manic laugh. And then machine gunshots from the window followed.

"Fuck!"

He didn't have to go very far, he had parked his car in a nearby driveway. His arms had to endure a lot, as Penguin wriggled and made efforts to jump from his arms. In any other situation that would be understandable, after all he had betrayed him back then and not yet had the opportunity to apologize and present his reconciliation gift.

But at that moment they had to leave, which wasn't too easy with a defending and screaming penguin. That's why he opened the trunk and put Penguin in. He was pressing his arms in panic against the door, but Victor slammed it shut. No time.

He threw himself into the driver's seat and drove off.

 

After half an hour he parked his car at the pier. Here they were undisturbed and far enough away. He also thought the river air would calm his boss down a bit. The whole half hour he heard hammers and choked sounds. Victor almost felt sorry, but he had no choice.

When he opened the trunk, a raging penguin lying in a blanket, in his red eyes sparked hatred.

As the killer stretched out his arms towards him, he flinched back, anxiously. But Victor didn't hestitate. He grabbed him and carried him to a bench nearby.

They were alone, there was no one at the pier.

 

As Victor tried to unbuckle the ball gag from behind his neck, three question marks appeared on Penguin's face and he flinched back.

"I'm sorry, boss, it wasn't supposed to come to that. But I wanted to get you safe first."

Hot tears stared back at him and Victor was tempted to put a hand on Oswalds face.

But now was not the time.

"Listen to what I have to say. Then I'll remove the gag."

Oswald's gaze spoke a thousand words, unfriendly words, and he hissed something incomprehensible.

 

"I have come to bring you a gift."

 

He took the leather bag from his shoulders and opened it slowly without taking the gaze of Penguin. Oswald looked at the bag with suspicion and as Victor pulled her head out by the long brown hair, his eyes widened. Unbelievingly.

 

A warm feeling flowed through Victor's chest. It was hard to get to Sofia. She was guarded at the most expensive, best guarded hospital in the south, but this was worth it. The look of his boss alone was worth it. That's exactly what he had expected.

What he had hoped for.

Penguin stared at her head as if spellbound, ten emotions shone simultaneously in his eyes. The most overwhelming was bewilderment.

After a long time, Victor was longing for his voice. He wanted to hear what he had to say. He wanted to hear that he would forgive him. Eventually.

 

When he removed the choke ball, carefully, Oswald was still sitting there without moving, staring at the water.

"Boss," Victor said and after half an eternity he heard the soft, hoarse voice.

 

"Bring me back."

Victor thought he had misheard himself.

"What?” he asked, frowning.

When Penguin looked at him, he had a bad feeling.

There was no gratitude in his gaze, as he had expected, but only one thing. Disappointment.

"Bring me back, Victor."

 

It was strange to hear his name after these difficult months. And yet so familiar.

"Why should I?" he asked without understanding.

 

"Bring me back! Bring me back, I said! What do you actually think of kidnapping me?”

Confused Victor frowned.

"I _saved_ you."

His were eyes black, while they focused on Penguin's.

"You didn't! _You didn't_ , you insane idiot! You have ruined everything! _Destroyed!!!_ "

 

Victor appraised his ex-boss with a long look. He didn't understand this. He hadn't expected that. But slowly it dawned on him.

 

"You and Valeska?"

"Yes! Me and Valeska! And now bring me back to him!”

Victor snorted, amused.

 

"SeriousIy, I thought you had more class."

He raised a non-existent eyebrow. He wasn't stupid. He knew his boss. Yes, he was a masochist, partly, that was indisputable. But he also thought of Nygma, of the pure feelings his boss had for him. And never in those four years he had worked for him had Penguin let anyone treat him like _that_. He was not guided by sexual urges.

Penguin couldn't withstand his gaze and turned his face away.

His shoulders trembled and Victor could see tears rolling down.

Only then did he realize how bad it must have been for Oswald to be seen like that.

 

"Do I have a choice?" he hissed hostilely now and turned back to him. Hate blazing in his eyes.

"Did I have a choice, Victor? Everything was taken from me! _Thanks to you!_ Do you want to know what he did to me at Arkham? And now you show up here and play my savior? What do you want anyway? That's your fault! EVERYTHING! If you didn't come to kill me, bring me back. Jerome is my opportunity! With him I can get back what was mine! WHAT YOU TOOK FROM ME!"

 

Victor remained unaffected by this tantrum. He knew his boss for far too long to let it get to him.

"I came to apologize," he said calmly.

" _Apologize?_ For what? For the fraud? Or for the attempted murder of me?

"For everything.”

Oswald snorted. And still trembled. Victor had the feeling that the other would collapse. Big clouds darkened the grey sky and the first raindrops fell onto the ground.

 

"You come too late. I will never forgive you! I swore that to myself! In Arkham! As Jerome the first time - I'll kill you, I'll kill you! _You_ did this to me!"

Before Victor knew what was happening, Oswald was on top of him, the blanket slipping off his shoulders, revealing the dark strangulation marks and the deep cuts on his neck and chest.

The first blow knocked his head back. The next blow left a hot burn on his cheek. The third blow let him briefly see stars. And then the little fists pounded at his chest, at his face, at his arms. He could try to cover himself with his arms, he could have held him. Or fight back. But he held still. Because he knew he deserved this.

 

"I'll kill you! I want you to die! _Traitor!_ You are not worth living!"

Penguin screamed and cried and Victor felt deaf.

Fingernails left bloody scratches on his face and he still didn't move. Penguin had never hit or attacked him. That was the first time. He tried it once though, back then when he betrayed him infront of Jim Gordon. But the police officers grabbed Penguin, so he couldn't harm him.

He knew that if the other had had a knife now, _he would be dead_. Sobbing and crying, Penguin collapsed on his lap after half an hour. He looked so vulnerable in his blanket, wiht his shoulders bare, the black hair wet from the rain.

 

"I hate you! You betrayed me, Victor. Betrayed me..."

It was barely a whisper and Victor shuddered.

His shirt got wet, wether from Penguin's tears or from the rain. A dull thump hammered in his head. Some blood had even run into his eye, but he did nothing about it.

Without saying anything, he put his hand almost weightlessly on the black head on his chest.

He hadn't imagined that day _like this_ _._ He didn't know what he thought he would find behind the door, but certainly not _that_.

"Boss," he mumbled quietly. Full of regret.

What a mess.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Oswald blinked disoriented into the room and didn't know where he was. Until he saw Victor sitting on a chair. Frightened, he jerked back and pushed himself against the wall. What was Victor doing here?

Pictures from yesterday came into his head.  
  
_"Who's your daddy, Pengy, huh?"_

 _Manic laughter penetrated his ear and a pain paralyzed his lower half. He might have thought he was used to pain, but that was new . His fingers pierced into flesh of his palm and he choked up some insults that were muffled thanks to the ball. Hot tears ran down his pale face and burned his skin. It was humiliating, degrad ing and it hurt. But that was the only way to become who he once was. The King of Gotham._  
  
_Most of the time he more or less went through the torment of the crazy redhead, but now he wished for an end. And just at the moment when he was hoping for a savior, Ed, Jim or anyone - **he** suddenly stood in the doorway and looked at him._  
_Victor._  
_The brown eyes looked straight into his and Oswald froze._  
_He was so shocked that he barely noticed the pain as Jerome entered him again._  
_His mind was racing, what the hell was Victor doing here? And why did he look at him like that ?_  
_Suddenly Victor pointed the gun at him._  
_He had known! He did not come to save him! But to finally destroy him._  
_Maybe the idiot still thought he was the one who had Falcone killed._  
_Shocked, he cried out and pressed himself into the mattress, away from Jerome. Victor was there to kill him, he was sure of that!_  
_No one would ever come to save him. He had no friends, never had. And every time he believed it, he was taught better. The first shot sounded and Oswald's body was seized by a brutal jolt. Jerome had released hi m . Fearful, he pressed himself into the mattress, he was naked, his hands and feet tied, there was nothing he could do to protect himself from any glances. An anxious whimper escaped him , but suffocated._

 _Oh God, Victor had come to get him._  
  
_When he was grabbed by the strong arms, he was still convinced._  
_**Victor will kill me. My top man. What an irony.**_  
_When he was put in the trunk, the voices got louder._  
_**He kills me. This time it's your end, Oswald.**_  
_When a strange leather bag was opened, the voices became quieter._  
_And when he finally recognized the contents, he suddenly realized:_  
_He had been wrong. Zsasz had saved him._  
_But it was too late for that. He had already sold his body to the devil._

  
"I'm unarmed," said Zsasz, and from the corner of his eye Oswald saw his hands raised.  
  
"I don't care what you are or are not. Would you have the kindness to let me go? Thank you very much.”  
  
"No," Zsasz replied unexpectedly and Oswald looked at him for the first time that day. Angry, hateful.  
  
But when he looked into the dark brown eyes so familiar to him, his stomach contracted painfully. _He had seen him_. Yesterday. With these eyes.  
  
Desperately he turned his face away, felt the panic begin to take over.  
Of all the people, _he_ had seen it. The person he trusted with his life. At least back then.  
"I want you to go”, he whispered broken and flinched again when he heard the chair.  
When he tried to see something from the corner of his eye, he saw Zsasz kneeling in front of the bed. Unpleasantly moved, Oswald raised his gaze.  
  
"Give the order.”  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"Give the order and I'll do it. I'll kill him."  
Victor raised his head and their eyes met.  
  
"No matter what, I'll do it."  
  
"Then _undo_ it. Everything.”  
  
"I would."  
  
Oswald turned his head away and recognized for the first time that he was dressed in an expensive-looking silk pyjama. Tears came into his eyes and he couldn't breathe.  
  
Victor reached for his hand, but Oswald pulled it back.  
"Don't...don't touch me," he pleaded and Victor gave him an unreadable look.  
  
A sob came loose from Oswald's throat and he pressed the back of his hand against his lips.  
  
"Boss," he heard Victor murmur and then it broke out of him. He couldn't stop the tears anymore. Through his veil of tears he saw Victor wanted to touch him. But he couldn't.  
It was all his fault! His guilt!

  
_“Traitors! Every.single.one of them. Ha! I will kill her! I will flay her alive! Her and Gordon! And ZSASZ!” Especially Zsasz. “And-" KLONK._  
_"Hey, buddy."_  
_"Do not talk to me! You-”_  
_"I get it, pal. This place is full of loonies. I just thought we could help each other out.”_  
_“And how can YOU help_ me _?”_  
_Manic laughter._

_“Well, not toot my own horn, but I'm a very resourceful fellow. So toot. Toot, toot.”_

_Crazy laughing._

_Oswald shuddered._  
_“I know that laugh!”_  
_“What do you say pal, I'll be your best friend.”_  
_Oswald panted, when he saw the familiar face._  
_“Give me your smile.”_  
_Laughing._

  
  
Yes, _resourceful._ Jerome had proved that. And best friends, well, that's what they became in the end. More or less. As for Zsasz, Oswald still wanted to skin him alive. But before that, Zsasz was to do him a service. Or two.  
  
"Good," he sobbed defiantly.  
"Bring back Grundy."  
  
"Sure, boss."  
Victor rose immediately and looked like the professional killer Oswald had entrusted his life to.  
  
At the door he paused for a moment and looked at him, frowning.  
  
"Who's Grundy?"  
  
"That you have to find out for yourself, don't you," Oswald replied and a sly expression crept into his eyes.  
  
Victor's dark eyes flashed briefly and he nodded.

~~~~

  
It was until evening that Victor reappeared. With Butch in tow. And a big tuna pizza for his boss.  
  
Oswald didn't want to appear impressed. Why should he?  
  
He accepted the pizza. Without a thank you.  
  
"We need 200 Grand. For Butch's healing."  
  
"No problem."

~~~~

  
The next morning there were 200 Grand on his pillow.  
  
A few hours later Victor came with breakfast and picked up the next job.  
  
"Find Strange. And get him to heal Butch." Oswald handed him the money.  
  
Victor grinned.  
"I don't need the money for that. He'll do it gladly without it."

~~~~

  
It took a week and Victor picked him up to take him to the old Iceberg L ounge, now Sirens again. There Butch stood in front of him. Healed.  
  
So his debt to Butch was paid. Oswald was a free man now .  
  
After this successful task Victor seemed to be waiting for something.  
  
But Oswald didn't care at all . He had no job for him anymore.  
  
After Victor had rescued him, he had brought him to his loft, where he lived with the girls. But now they lived in one of his safe houses.  
  
Oswald was mostly in his room, but this time he went into the living room. Since Butch was healed , he felt more relaxed, almost in the mood to celebrate. With himself.  
Sofia's head was enthroned on the living room table and he approached her, giggling. Perhaps he could celebrate with her. Victor had it preserved and exhibited here. It reminded him of his stepmother's head. He turned on some slow, melodical music.

Humming, he danced slowly around the table. Victor was outside, probably fetching food. They didn't talk much to each other, only about the orders Oswald was to give him. Both were silent about what had happened between them, or between him and Valeska. He had nothing to say to Victor. And no matter what the other would do, he did not intend to forgive him.  
He hummed in a good mood and took a drink from the cupboard. With a glass in his hand, he cheered her on.  
  
"I must say, the look suits you." He giggled darkly into himself and approached her again . Dreamily he stroke d through her long brown strands.  
"A shame. You were so pretty. So pretty that even Victor fell for you," he hissed the last words with contempt.  
"You sinful seductress. You have taken from me everything I have worked hard for, for years. Even him. My best man."  
Crazy giggling, he flinched when he heard a voice.  
"I see, you like my gift."  
With big eyes Oswald looked at his own hand, which had rammed the broken glass into Sofia's eye socket. Red wine dripped down his fingers as if it were her blood and this sight gave him a contented satisfaction.

"Oops, it must have gone through with me," he laughed shamefully. Victor approached him with a grin on his face.

"Wait, I'll help you." With a skilful twist he squeezed out her eye and proudly presented it.  
Oswald grinned murderously.  
"Where do you want it?" he asked and Oswald bit his lip.  
"Hm?” Smiling, he held her eye closer and closer. Almost sensual, he stroked it over his lips. Oswald could _taste_ her dead eye on his lips. His breath stopped and with large, widened eyes, he looked at Victor, who laughed excitedly.  
How he had missed _that laugh_ .  
"Desecration of a corpse," his former top killer whispered suggestively. "How we love that."  
Oswald giggled and turned his face away, embarrassed.  
"Give it back to her."  
"Ohh, really?" Victor sounded disappointed.  
"I want her to see everything that's happening here." His boss grinned at him, leering and Victor bit his lip.

Did the boss flirt with him? It reminded him of when they were in bloodlust together. Back then, with Loeb or that Ridlette.

Oswald also seemed to have noticed his own mistake, for he turned away embarrassed. He knew that Victor and he had this one thing in common. They let themselves be carried away by this bloodlust and could easily forget themselves. Nothing had ever happened before, but Oswald had sometimes wished for it. Without another word he limped into his room before the dangerously crackling air would tempt them both into something Oswald was no longer ready for.

 

~~~~

 

Oswald had not given him a task for a few days now and after dinner the displeasure finally burst from his best man.

"When will you give me the job?" His top killer seemed impatient, restless. Walked around him like a predator on a hunt.

"I don't know what you mean, Victor?"

"When do I get to kill him?"

"Who?

"Valeska."

Oswald said nothing, but looked away.

"You don't want me to do it. Why?"

Oswald shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know."

"He mistreated you."

"Who didn't!" Oswald hissed and glared at Victor threateningly.

"You are the king of Gotham, the Penguin. No one should get to treat you like that."

 

"At that time I was _nothing_. A target for everyone. If it wasn't for him, maybe something much worse would have happened."

Victor was silent.

"Did you like it?”

He immediately regretted the sentence when he had pronounced it.

Oswald looked at him as if he wanted to kill him.

But Victor didn't stop.

"Did you love him?"

The blow came unexpectedly. His cheek was burning and Oswald pressed a knife against Victor's throat.

"Did that look like love to you, huh? Turned you on to see me like that, didn't it? Defenseless, at his mercy, mistreated. Did you wish to be in his place? You are too late, Victor. He was my first. And the only one.”

 

That was enough to provoke Victor. He pressed his lips violently against Oswald's. The knife fell out of his hand and he gasped for air. Panic came over him and he trembled all over his body. His strength wasn't enough to push the other one away. He lost all his strength, everything turned black before his eyes. And he feared to fall. Into deep darkness. Where _he_ was waiting for him.

Exactly then Victor broke away from him. Struggling for breath and trembling, Oswald tried to come back to himself. His gaze cleared and he saw Victor in front of him. He looked at him with a strange expression.

_Regretful._

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 The boss has been with him for three weeks now. The first days they were in his loft with the girls, later he brought him together with Butch to one of his safe houses. Butch left them, and Victor couldn't find him. But his Boss didn't seem to care either. So he took Oswald to a smaller hiding place, not that Butch had the idea to tell Valeska where the little bird was.

No matter what Victor did in the last weeks, nothing had improved. His boss showed him the cold shoulder, as always. There was nothing left of their former familiarity. He had brought him "Grundy", as ordered. Then he had gotten the 200 grand, in a heartbeat. And finally he had visited Doctor Strange and made him heal Butch. Successful.

But Penguin remained the same ungrateful, dissatisfied bird who refused to give the order on Valeska.

He could do it without an order, but after everything that had happened, he wanted to obey his boss. Penguin didn't trust him anyway, he didn't want to make it worse.

All the more annoying that the incident happened yesterday.

Penguin had provoked him.

He still heard the words. Cold. Mocking.

"Turned you on to see me like that, huh? Defenseless, at his mercy, mistreated. Did you wish to be in his place? You are too late, Victor. He was my first. And the only one.”

 

He would lie if he said Penguin was wrong.

The pictures of Valeska, buried deep inside him, followed him to this day. He could hear Oswald's suffocated whimpering and Valeska's deep, excited groaning.

He could still see the naked maltreated skin in front of him, covered with bite marks, strangulation marks and fine goose bumps. And the big hands that dug into this tender flesh.

The worst part, however, was that he got hard at these pictures. Once again. Damn.

He bit his lip hard and tried to think of something else. It was the middle of the night and he could not fall asleep. Oswald slept in the next room and all his senses were sharpened. Sometimes the other one had nightmares or panic attacks. Every time Victor was alarmed and stormed into his room, but every time he was sent out loudly.

Valeska had broken his little bird.

And he wanted to break _him_. Every single bone. And then slowly pull his skin off. So that his whole body looked like his face. Mutilated. Ugly.

The problem with these thoughts was that his _little problem_ didn't disappear - on the contrary, it got bigger. Murder thoughts, torture thoughts usually made him hot.

At least now he didn't need to have a bad conscience to touch himself. Now that his thoughts no longer revolved around the boss.

He had forbidden it to himself until now. Especially after Penguins hateful words. Of course the picture turned him on. It sparked a deep-seated desire in him, jealousy and thoughts of murder. This mixture was deadly. Sinful.

This always brought him to the Edge.

But this time he couldn't help but imagine that it wasn't Valeska who was kneeling behind Penguin. _He_ was.

His hand grabbed his hard member and began to move. Shame, the boss would never forgive him. But the memory of the incident was so deep that it had awakened something in him that had dominated him for a long time.

How often had he imagined that he was the boss's first man. They had become closer and closer, Victor had flirted with him more often.

Shortly before Falcone had come to Gotham, he had more carefully chose his wardrobe, had dressed more stylish to attract the boss' attention. Which he then got. Besides, he hadn't let himself get away with flirting with the boss.

His typical "Relax, Boss" became more and more suggestive, his sentences always accompanied by a certain undertone. Penguin liked this kind of attention and Victor almost believed himself at his goal. Until Falcone was killed and he falsely blamed Oswald. A mistake.

Lust ebbed away and Victor pulled his hand out of his boxer shorts.

Damn shame.

Falcone's death and his betrayal of Penguin would probably remain a desire suppressor forever.

 

"No...no...help!"

Alarmed, Victor rose and grabbed without hesitation his two weapons under his pillow.

It could be a nightmare again, but he had to be prepared for everything.

Silently he opened the door and entered. Penguin lay in his bed, alone, panting and rolling back and forth. He was bathed in sweat. Victor quietly closed the door and sat down carefully on the bed.

"Boss."

His voice was quiet. Soft.

He had already stretched out his hand, but he paused. He knew how sensitive the boss was to any kind of touch.

So far Victor hasn't been allowed to touch him on his own. A shame.

"Oswald," he said quietly as the little bird whimpered fearfully.

"No no no...please don't...Jerome..."

Thoughts in which he held Valeska's skin in his fingers penetrated his thoughts and he pressed his jaw together. It was actually enough that he had to endure the whining around Nygma for months, but this was _different_ . That was personal. Valeska had taken by force what was actually _his._

 

The incoming cold light of the moon shone on the small winding body and Victor swallowed.

"Jerome, please...!"

That was enough.

He reached for Oswald's shoulder to shake him awake, but that didn't happen.

Screaming loudly, Oswald shot up and pushed himself against the wall.

"Away from me! I can't do it any more-"

Victor didn't move, remained sitting in silence and watched Oswald's chest rise and fall quickly.

"Victor," he gasped anxiously, peering at his killer at the end of his bed.

Victor nodded slowly and raised his hands.

"It's me, boss. There's nobody else here. You were dreaming."

"I...I know...I...oh god...water," he gasped trembling while still pressing himself against the wall.

Without a word Victor rose, walked into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water.

Oswald took it shakily and gluped it down.

Panting, he wiped his mouth.

"Thank you. Victor," he whispered quietly and handed him the glass.

When Victor grabbed it and accidentally touched his fingers, Oswald let go abruptly and pulled his hand away as if he had burned himself. The glass fell silently onto the bed.

Worried, Victor looked at him.

"Don't...don't touch me," he pleaded broken and pressed his hands against his eyes. "Don't touch me...don't come near me", he cried now and his shoulders shook.

"Boss...I won't hurt you. I swear," he said quietly and looked down on the smaller man with an unknown feeling. He knew it was hard to cope with, but that was the first time the boss showed himself like that.

"I'm sorry...Victor..." he croaked desperately and wiped his face.

"...but you...you _saw_..."

A hot feeling of guilt pounded into Victor's guts. Not only had he seen it, but today he even became hot at the thought of it. Suddenly he felt dirty. And he wanted to do something, something to make up for it.

Carefully he put his hand on the black hair.

"Not," Oswald gasped in shock, but Victor did not allow himself to be put off.

"Shhh”, he tried to calm him down.

"You saw everything! Why are you still here at all? You have seen what _I am_ ! An unworthy , dirty _thing_!

Victor snorted amused.

"You are nothing like that, boss. That was just sex. What do you think is going on behind closed doors with the most virtuous people?? They, too have sex".

Oswald flinched at the word "sex" every time, but Victor's words seemed to reassure him.

"But not me."

"Everyone. Sooner or later."

His hand gently stroked the sweaty strands and he closed his eyes. He was close to him. Just like before.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Oswald's desperate gaze directed at him.

"But...with me it was _dirty_..."

"I've seen much worse. You can't shock me."

Oswald cried more quietly.

"You see me with other eyes, I know it. I'm no longer worth being your boss."

Victor pulled him closer.

" _Please_. Don't talk that way".

Oswald calmed down a bit in his arms and Victor dared to hold his face with both his hands.

"You're not dirty," he whispered quietly.

"I am! I am filthy, dishonoured! Admit what you think, Victor! Oswald - the whore."

Victor laughed.

"Boss, honestly, no reason to overstate. I have sex, too. There's nothing at all!”

"It _is_! You never let yourself be used so shamelessly! Let humiliate!"

Victor sighed.

"Does it help you if you would see me like this?" he asked and immediately had the attention of his boss. With tear-wet eyes Oswald looked up at him while he was half in his arms.

Victor's fingers still stroked his hair and his voice was melodic, pleasant. Different than this manic laughter.

"How?" Oswald breathed quietly.

"Helpless, tied up. Naked."

Oswald shuddered.

"Then we would be even. You wouldn't have to be ashamed anymore."

Embarrassed, Oswald turned his gaze away and Victor whispered in his ear.

"Or even better, you can _do_ to me what he did to you."

Oswald froze in his arms. And thanks to the moonlight from the window, Victor could see a soft redness on his cheeks. And Oswald's breath was harder.

"Would you like that?" he whispered suggestively.

"That...you would do _that_ for me?

Again the bright eyes looked for his.

"I would do anything. Besides, I would have fun watching you. Doing that to me. Actually, I would enjoy it very much.“

Now he saw it very clearly. Oswald turned red.

"Stop making fun of me," he mumbled in shame and then Victor grabbed his face. Fearfully, Oswald closed his eyes, squeezing them together.

"Boss. Look at me."

Oswald obeyed, hesitantly.

"Do with me what you want. Tie me up. Gag me. Hurt me. Take me. Make me _yours_." He talked slowly. He meant it. Every single word.

Oswald swallowed. The blue eyes widened and then slightly trembling hands lay on Victor's face. Sighing, Victor closed his eyes. How long he had yearned for this touch.

"You're mine already" Oswald whispered on his lips and kissed him tenderly.

Victor moaned softly into Oswald's mouth and tried to control his desires. This was for the boss. He would give him what he needed. And at some point, when the time was right, he would take what _he_ needed.

"Sleep next to me, Victor," he asked him quietly and Victor obeyed.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 A few days had passed and Victor slept in bed with Penguin every night. They hadn't kissed since then though. Oswald had taken no further steps towards him and Victor respected the boundaries. He didn't want to corner his little bird. The last days he was busy finding Butch again. Not that he was very eager for the company of the bulldog, but he was neither seen with Valeska nor in the Sirens with his lover. Until today there was no sign of life from Gilzean. But he had found out news tonight. And that was what he had to tell Oswald.

The boss would not like it.

"Gilzean has changed sides. Just confirmed," he said just as he sat down on the couch next to his boss. Penguin watched a cartoon on TV. The last weeks he had followed the news eagerly to stay up to date. But sometimes he took a break and relaxed with some trivial entertainment.  
Oswald shrugged his shoulders disinterestedly and took his drink.

"Let him."  
Victor watched him silently.

"Was foreseeable anyway, wasn't it? He had the choice between me, who had cut off his hand for selfish purposes. And between the love of his life. My chances were bad from the start."

Victor frowned. Since when did Penguin take a betrayal so easily? It was Penguin... he was very sensitive, when it came to any sorts of disloyalty.

"You healed him."

"No. Strange cured him. With your help."

"You gave the order."

 

Penguin looked at him.  
"Does that make a difference? Butch was my friend, yes-"

"And now he's sitting in the Iceberg Lounge with Kean and Gallavan, trying to snatch what's yours."

"What, Victor, are you trying to tell me?"

“Let me go to work.”

“No.”

“No? Just me on my own, I can take out the Sirens - _easy_.“

"And what's the point, Victor? Maybe we'll need them later."

"We don't. Both of us, that's enough."  
  
Blinking, Oswald looked at his former loyal executor.

"Why are you doing this," he asked quietly. "You betrayed me. Why did you come back?"

"If it's any consolation," Victor said slowly. "It wasn't easy for me to do that back then. I thought it was you, who gave the hit on Falcone. That wasn't the problem though. Business is business, right? But I thought you lied to me."

"I didn't."

"That's why I'm here again."

"Why do you want to help me get back to the top? That was never a concern of yours, was it?“  
  
Every time he was on the ground, Victor was never within reach. He didn't come back to him until he was back on top. 

"This time it's my fault. And I'm not sure if you can do it alone. Without prostituting yourself to some red-haired maniac."

A deadly look shot at him and they silently stared at each other.

"You dare", Oswald hissed deadly and had already pulled his knife out of his pocket.

"I always thought you and Nygma? You were so sick with love that I never forced myself upon you. Who would have thought that you loved to be forced."  
  
Victor had come dangerously closer and Oswald pressed the knife to his throat.

"What are you talking about," he hissed threateningly. And a little afraid, considering how close Victor had come to him on the couch. He was pressed against the armrest, almost lying flat on the upholstery.  
  
"How many times have I imagined pressing you against Nygmas' ice statue and fucking you senseless. Just as often as I told myself that I had to be considerate. To your hurt feelings."  
  
Penguin was shocked. And speechless.  
  
"Who would have thought that you would then fall for the ruthless, anarchic maniac? If you want to offer yourself, then not to someone who wants to lay the _world_ in ruins, but make you _it's king_ **.“**  
  
Oswald blinked at him in shock. Minutes passed.  
  
"Victor, for the last time! I have no feelings for Valeska!  
  
"Then why don't you give me the order?"  
  
"Because...it would be too dangerous. He has Tetch, he has Scarecrow. I can't lose you too!"  
  
He looked away and Victor's eyes widened. The pressure of the blade eased and Victor put a hand on Oswald's face.  
  
"Gotham is yours. All you have to do is take it."  
  
Penguins eyelids closed halfway and Victor leaned forward, pressing against the sharp blade.  
"Give the order and I'll do it. Anything you want".  
  
Oswald lost his senses, he smelled Victor's minty smell and leaned his forehead against his neck.  
No one could give him what he wanted.  
In former times, he wanted to be Gordon's friend. Then he wanted Edward's love. At some point Victor's loyalty was enough for him. And now he just wanted to forget. That a part of him belonged to Jerome.  
  
He felt Victor's breath on his face and resignedly closed his eyes. Victor was not Jerome. He had trusted Victor for years. He had never hurt him, knew his boundaries and knew where his place was. Victor appreciated order. And hierarchy. Just like him. Different from Jerome.  
  
That's why he didn't fight back when he felt Victor's lips on his.  
A few days ago they had kissed. It was Oswald who had kissed him. Carefully, tenderly. And days before that Victor had kissed him. Rude, possessive. This kiss now resembled Oswald's kiss. It didn't take long for him to reply. Just as timid. Victor sighted quietly, he was above him, but he was not lying on top of him. He enjoyed Oswald's reply and did not push him. Instead, he gave him enough space to become a little more daring. The slower he kissed him, the more careful, the more reactions he got from Oswald. The little bird sighed quietly, but more and more longingly. After a few timid attempts by Victor, he finally opened his mouth willingly. Victor's tongue was warm, damp and fitted perfectly to his.  
It made him weak. That was exactly what he wanted. What he longed for. For someone who tried hard. Who cared about him. And not about himself.  
  
Finally he allowed Victor to bring him into the bedroom. All concerns, all doubts were blown away as the assassin lay down on him and their touches became more sensual. Even when Victor slowly took them both off, he let it happen. The gentle heat had long since taken possession of him. Victor's strong body lay hot and heavy on his and he liked that feeling.

"My little virgin," he whispered darkly into his ear and a hot blush spread across Oswald's face. He almost thought Victor made fun of him, but in the darkness he looked for his gaze. And it made him breathless. Victor was serious. That was reason enough for Oswald to devote himself to his killer. It was a sweet pain when Victor penetrated him and made him his. Oswald felt like he was sleeping with someone for the first time. And he was glad it was Victor.  
  
He was indeed different from Jerome. Oswald had never felt so safe, so valued during a sexual act. It was actually as he used to imagine it to be with Edward. They had merged into one, and at that moment Oswald hadn't feel used, humiliated or lonely than ever before.

Victor always waited for his reactions and was one hundred percent focused on him. His kisses were passionate, his gaze sincere and his movements cautious. Oswald's hands were everywhere on him. On his muscular arms holding him, on the bald head that felt so smooth under his fingers, on his back where slight scratches were left. On his chest, where he stroked every single scar. Victor seemed to love that attention. He did not spare tender confessions, which he whispered with relish in Oswald's trembling mouth. His movements became smoother and they adapted to each other.

It was like a sensual dance in which he left Victor in lead. He trusted him. At that moment he gave him his body - and his soul. And Victor treated this gift as a precious good.

He never thought he'd ever say that, but Victor was romantic. Perfect.

  
After a sweet eternity, his head lay on Victor's chest, fingers silently stroking through his black hair. This was so different, unlike anything he was used to. It felt familiar. And soulful.  
Now Oswald felt safe enough to say what had long been on his heart. His fingers stroked over the scars on Victor's chest and then over his arms.

"Victor."  
"Mh?"  
"I...think about.... kind of... ruling Gotham not alone."

Victor's fingers held still and he said nothing. With every second Oswald felt more uncomfortable in his skin and finally he looked up for his eyes and looked at him.  
Victor returned his gaze, serious, thoughtful.

"You want to ally yourself with the Riddler," he asked and Oswald's features slipped. Angry, he pulled his eyebrows together.

"How do you even came up with an ...absurd idea like _that_? He runs after Lee Thompkins like a naive lapdog, no thanks, I have no desire to be killed a second time because of _a woman_!"  
Victor grinned and stroked his hair again.

"Who did you think of then?"  
The name Valeska was in the air, but Victor found it wiser not to pronounce it.  
Oswald had noticed the change of mood and he had to admit that he hadn't found the idea with Jerome bad at that time. But only because he had failed every time he was alone in power. His selfishness and lust for power had always cost him his collar. Perhaps it would be better to share the throne with someone. Someone he trusted.  
Again he raised his eyes and just looked at Victor. Silently. The killer raised his eyebrows.

"Oh."  
Then he grinned. Amused.  
"Are you sure about that? I am an executor. No leader."

"You can also be the leading executor, what you do with the position is your business. Nothing has to change either. But this time I would prefer to have you next to me instead of under me."  
Victor grinned suggestively.

"I like to have you above me.”  
Laughing, Oswald gave him an elbow thrust.  
Victor pulled him onto his lap..  
"You like it too, don't you?"

Oswald blushed when he was on Victor's lap and felt him under him. Hard.  
Excited, he bit his lip.  
Victor laid a hand calmly on his cheek.

"Can I still call you boss, then?" he asked and pushed his hip playfully against Oswald, who came up excited.  
He grabbed Victor's hands and pressed them onto the pillow at the sides of his head.

"I ask for it," he whispered into his ear, whereupon Victor tried to bite his lower lip.  
Oswald skilfully dodged and grinned at him as he began to move his hips. A deep grunt escaped him and Oswald bent down to him again, whispering against his lips.

"Get him here.” His hot breath stroked Victor's lips.  
"And then we kill him together. Not that he burns down the city before it belongs to us.”

Victor's eyes widened. He was more happy about this order than he was about the offer to rule together with Oswald. All he wanted was to kill Valeska. Preferably, slowly and painfully.  
"That's my boss," Victor gasped excitedly and pushed his hip up again.  
  
"But before," Oswald grinned and reached into his bedside drawer. A click sounded and Victor's gaze shot to the bed post.  
"You owe me something, remember?" Another click sounded and Victor grinned murderously.  
"I'm allowed to do _whatever I want_ with you.”  
When he felt Penguin's sharp knife over his naked skin, he bit his lip with excitement.

“Allowed to _hurt_ you."

At that promise Victor got excited. Penguin was hot, when he thought he had the upper hand.  
But suddenly Oswald let go of him and got off the bed.  
Victor frowned.  
"You won't leave me here alone now, I hope?" Not that he had anything against bondage games, but actually he had hoped for more action.  
"Wait for me", called Oswald and Victor pulled up his eyebrows.  
"I'll have to, won't I?"

When Oswald entered again, with Sofia's head in his hand, a devilish grin appeared on his face.  
"Well, that's to my taste," he laughed and Oswald joined him as he put her head on the bedside table.  
"We don't want her to miss anything, do we?" Again Victor bit his lips excitedly and closed his eyes when Oswald sat down on him.  
Lasciviously his boss leaned forward, stroked his naked chest and breathed suggestively into his ear.  
"And soon, hopefully, we will get a new spectator."

Victor's eyes darkened with lust and he playfully snapped at his lower lip. The thought of Valeska's head, right next to Sofia's, got him going.  
"She shall see how I make you mine."

The whisper send shivers down Victor's spine.  
But then his eyes widened as he felt Oswald penetrate him.  
Slowly.

This – was unexpected.

He could feel the boss. _Inside_ him. Deep. And hot.

He tugged at the handcuffs at this painful sensation.  
The sweet pain drove beads of sweat onto his forehead.  
His body was burning with pain. And lust.  
"I'm yours already”, he gasped and took his eyes not a second from his little bird, which entered him again and took possession of his body.  
These words sparked something in Penguin, something hungry.

He had never seen his Boss so beautiful. Kneeling in front of him and fucking him painfully slowly. Having the upper hand and torture him with this painful pace. When Oswald began to touch his aching member, Victor groaned lustfully. This was enough for Oswald to drive himself a bit faster and harder into him.

“You're damn pretty, Boss”, Victor moaned breathlessly and locked eyes with his penguin. He wanted him. From the beginning. 

The blue eyes were almost black as they sank into Victor's dark, demanding eyes.  
Without regret.

 

 


End file.
